


The caged angel

by dreamerwatergirl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abusive John, Alternate Universe - Slavery, Brothels, F/M, Forced Prostitution, Hurt Castiel, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Rape/Non-con Elements, Weechesters!, listing all the bad tags, slave!Castiel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-27
Updated: 2014-11-25
Packaged: 2018-02-14 23:46:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2207568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamerwatergirl/pseuds/dreamerwatergirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John buys an angel 'servant' to care for Dean and Sam during hunts but overtime the angel becomes much more to John and the boys. Follow Castiel as his vessel grows with the Winchester boys and old masters come hunting for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

  


**It all started with a long hunt**

It all started with a long hunt. One that brought out truths that Robert Singer was hoping he would never see. The hunt of a pack of wolves heading south towards the larger feeding grounds lead John Winchester to drop six year old Dean and four year old Sam off with the gruff Bobby Singer. John had dropped the boys off with the smell of alcohol on his breath and Bobby had understood. Booze basically came with the job so Bobby wasn’t worried. It was when Dean muttered ‘I fell’ the familiar excuse that the hunter himself used to tell which caused Bobby worried.

 

Actually one could argue that it started with a fire. The flames consumed the Winchester’s happy home in Lawrence, Kansas and had taken Mary with it. It also took John’s patience and some would say his sanity was well. Things were never the same after the dust settled. John began to hunt and to search and he dragged the boys with him. The red, orange and yellow streaks of light brought the one wish Mary had for her children and burned it to a crisp. Her children would be hunters.

 

Though some have said it started with the creation of the horrid institution though no one person is certain of how it started. Legend says that Raphael wanted his kind to suffer for stopping the apocalypse and took the servants of humanity literally. So the archangel started spilling Heaven’s secrets to demons and most ruthless hunters he could find. Others say it was the scribe of God that wanted to destroy Heaven so that he could be the hero but it ended up backfiring. Some even believe that it was Michael himself that brought the angels to this point, the point where the whole world knew about the angels and most importantly to control them. They were servants, slaves to the humans of the world. Of course some remained in places of power and some tools for the lowest of the low. But that point is the farthest one can trace this tales start.

 

 

For this tale it will start with the long hunt and the return of John for his children and Bobby could not hold his tongue, not when it was so close to home and to his boys. John was packing his freshly cleaned guns while Bobby debated his words. He opened the best pause button on his friend’s leaving. He pushed the glass of scotch across the table. John smiled and stopped just as Bobby thought. In a few seconds the older man spoke.

“John. You have to rest after a hunt like that one, you idjit. Especially when you have two little idjits to look after.”   
“What do you want me to do, Bobby?”

“An angel.” Some hunters were indifferent to the enslaved angels or even opposed it. Others used them just as a gun or a blade and others used them to gain money and statues by capturing escaped and the rare free angels.   
“WHAT? John was indifferent but he knew what Mary would say.

“I heard they do work as caretakers. They are servants of the Lord and are meant to help humanity.” Bobby’s words came from the many ads featured well everywhere and they were working.

“They are here to help and they do anything. It can help with hunts or when you leave Dean and Sammy in motels. John listen. Dean needs his childhood or something close to it. An angel doesn’t. You can use it for a while until Dean is older enough. Please for them, John.”   
“But Mary…”   
“Mary doesn’t want this for them either. She would want you to stop. So stop or get one.”

“You know I can’t...” Bobby nodded. With that nod the Winchesters stayed in Siox Falls a while longer. Bobby gave John the address of an Angel shop in town but it wasn’t until John was drunk and rage filled enough by Mary’s voice in his head that he realized what he was doing. Bobby had gone into town for a few days and Dean had simply tried to make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for Sam. The young boy ended up breaking the plate and cutting his arm with the knife when he tried to explain himself. They hadn’t eaten since Bobby left. In the midst of his scolding John saw himself in the mirror on the wall. There he stood with his face red, eyes gazed over, and fist raised. He realized that Dean shouldn’t have been feeding Sam that an angel should be. He should be yelling at an angel, about to hit an angel.


	2. The Fallen Angel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time to go angel shopping.

Dean did not quite understand what was going on because he was sure his dad would smack him upside the head again but no John paused and silently cleaned up the broken plate, took care of the cut with a smile on his face and made them lunch while he hummed. It was not until Bobby came back and his father knelt before him with the smell of coffee around him.

“Dean, do you want to come with me to get something that will help take care of you and Sam?”   
“Like what, Dad? A new mommy?” Sam asked from the doorway and John smiled.

“No Sammy. Not quite going see if Bobby needs help unpacking. It’s a surprise.”   
“Like what, then?”

“We are getting an angel” Dean’s brows creased. He had never seen an angel in real life before but he had heard of them. They were everywhere and he heard this boy Jake talked about his at that one school John had enrolled them in and they were expensive so the six year old was surprised. “I want you to come with me.” What?  
“But Dad Sam-”   
“No buts this is for Sam and you. It will be for both of you so I want you to be there to pick out the perfect one for you.” Dean nodded. Bobby frowned from the doorway. Bobby thought that an Angel shop was no place for a six year old but he held his tongue this was for the best. He was not going to let Dean and Sam suffer the same fate as he did. Dean was confused. He knew he should be excited they were getting an angel and that John was taking him with to pick it out but he wasn’t. He sighed inside because John was right. Dean couldn’t raise Sam but an angel could. He was going to get the very best angel for Sammy. Dean smiled and nodded not know what else to say. 

 

Moments after Dean found himself in the passenger seat of the Impala staring at a large sign that he couldn’t read yet but the white fluffy wings on either side as enough to know they were here. They went through the glass doors and came to a seating room where pictures of angels hung on the wall, a plant was in the corner and an African American man stood at a countertop that took up the far wall excepted for a grey code locked door that drew Dean’s attention while the adults talked.   
“Welcome to Walker and Son’s Friendly Angel Shop. I’m Greg Walker and what can I get you today?”

“Well, I’m here for an angel.” The dark skinned man restrained himself from growling at the response because this was an angel shop after all.

“We have many of those, Mr. uh?”   
“Winchester. John Winchester.” This caused a change in the air and the man at the counter. Winchester was a famous and infamous name in the hunting worlds or at least to where Bobby could spread the name.

“Oh you’re Bobby’s friend.”   
“You know him?”   
“I hope to be. Bobby’s a good man.” There was a belated pause that one could deem awkward before “So an angel you said. What type of angel?”   
“Is there more than one?” Even in confusion John pulled off a charming embarrassed scoff.  
“This is a pre-trained angel shop and our angels have been trained for certain jobs.” He opened a leather bound catalogue.   
“There are your classic labors in the mines, farms, and such, your servants, your caretakers, your soldiers and your _other_ workers. The type is important if you are looking for a specific angel. Previous owners have worked in certain processes as well. Some processes are hard to break.”   
“Caretaker I guess. I need one to care for my boys. Dean is here to help pick an angel out.” John put his hand on his son’s shoulder and Dean gave the man a bright smile.

“And how old are you, Dean?” Greg asked as he leaned over the tall counter to see the little boy.

“Six, sir.”   
“I have a boy about your age.”

“So there is a son in Walker and Son’s.” The man laughed and it was a hearty and happy sound.

“Sure is. Let me see if I can’t find Gordon while you both take a look at our angel types, and pamphlets describing care and what not.” Greg disappeared through the grey door and John took a couple booklets before sitting on one of the plush waiting couches. He patted the seat next him and Dean climbed up.   
“What do you know about angels, Dean?”

“They have pretty wings and this kid named Andy at that one school had one.”   
Dean just shrugged. They were slaves and Dean never thought he would have one. He was also six. John flipped through the pamphlets and while Dean asked questions and pointed to the pictures and smiles. While Dean and John smiled and talked over the features the angel should have (as Dean would say ‘super strong and super nice and smart and’ he went on for a while), Greg came upon Gordon in the container holding the rare angel in the Walker collection that Greg could not sell for the live of him. Gordon however loved this angel and by that he loved to torture this angel. The boy was a bully plain and simple and one that had an entire hoard of legal targets. Greg looks for his boy here first and there he finds him. He finds him kicking the angel repeatedly in the ribs that is.

“Gordon, leave the merchandize alone! We have customers. I want you to watch and help me with his son. Can you do that?” Gordon looked at the angel on the floor and smirked.

“Can I bring him with me?” Greg sighed and nodded. His son had a strange fixation with this angel. It wasn’t healthy and it was all the more reason that Greg wanted to sell the thing.

“Yes but be easy with him. They want a caretaker not a punching bag.” Gordon smiled and yanked the angel up by his tuffs of hair causing the creature to yelp in pain and Greg muttered a location spell on the collar to keep the angel near him at all times and walked out of the door not bothering to see Gordon push the angel on his back or see pain race through him when the spell reached its limit.

 

John was the one that looked up first when the man returned this time with a young boy in tow and an angel that kneeled at his side. But this angel isn’t like any other angels in the picture for two small black wings draped on the floor at his sides. He was the size of a child. Dean looked up at his dad when John stopped in his tracks and stared. Dean scratched at the bandages on his arm as he pondered what could be so shocking.   
“John this is my son, Gordon and this is the rarest angel that has ever crossed my path. They call it the Fallen Angel.” Greg though he could not sell Fallen Angel or known to others as Angel 401 was proud to have the only angel reported with colored wings besides of course Raphael  (Some angels were given numbers and others titles like this one but some had both.) This angel had both few beings used his true name anymore.   
“Is it a fledging? I thought angels didn’t die or have children.”   
“They don’t and no not really. He is um.. well.. .” Dean had downed out the adults’ voices. His six-year-old mind did not care. Not when the beautiful onyx wings were before him. The creature shivered in the small cloth that barely covered anything at all and it caused the wings to shudder. The man’s son who in reality is about two years older than Dean propped himself up on the counter and started to flick water from a flower vase onto the angel’s wings. It caused the angel to lift his head with a gasp and when he did Dean stared into the brightest blue eyes to ever meet his. The angel continued to stare as Greg continued to stutter over an explanation to say in front of children. Time slowed and Dean could hear his heart beat within his chest as the angel unblinking inched his way towards Dean. He was close now and all Dean could do was stare as the angel grimaced but reached up and let his fingers clasp to his shoulder. It pulsed through him. A pulse of heat traveled through him. It trickled down his nerves to his bones to his skin. Then it was over. The eye contacted was gone as the angel slumped over. He must have gasped when it happened because John was watching him carefully. Greg was apologizing as much as humanly possible as he throws that barely conscious angel against the nearest wall and Gordon laughs at what they believed was an attempt for help. Dean feels no different. Well that is not true the itching stopped. His arm felt a lot better actually. He looked down at his left arm and unpeels the bandages. It is gone that barely scabbed over cut from the knife is gone because of the angel.

“Dad! It healed me! Can we get that angel, Dad?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By the way, the spell thing is like a shock collar put on dogs with limited ranges and such.


	3. The Purchase

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time to buy.

So it was settled and before John knew it he was sitting in the man’s office. The hallway he walk through had the gray walls and steel holding cells through which he could hear the faintest whimpers or the repeated banging. The office was different from the prison style hallway with its faded green wallpaper, cluttered papers, and the golden nameplate. It was your average office except John noted the holy water and salt on the desk as well as a few wards on the threshold.

“What would you like to know about your angel choice, Mr. Winchester?”  
“I haven’t chosen anything, Mr. Walker. Not yet. I don’t know anything about this angel.”  
“But your son-“

“My son begs like that for pie as well. It doesn’t mean I’m going to buy the first flavor the six year old points to. I don’t know where it has been, what it can do, and if it is the best choice for my boys.”

“I suppose you are right, Mr. Winchester.” Greg trifled through his tan folders until he came upon the angel’s number and FA.  
“I have here the list of previous owners and uses of the angel. It has quite a range of skill and has been a prize among many high level businessmen. Sold at many auctions and some private sells.”

“What kind of work?”  
  
  
Dean and Gordon were walked to the angel’s cell and Dean couldn’t help but cringe at the smell and the cries he heard. Gordon felt right at home on the other hand as his dad and Mr. Winchester disappeared behind the splintering wood door. He threw his favorite toy into his cell and followed after him. He turned to the man’s kid and struck up a conversation with him. Gordon joked with him and they seemed to be similar. Gordon could see him keeping his angel in check until he brings the angel back, who was currently  huddled in the corner of the cell. They always bring the Fallen Angel and demand a refund.

“What are you going to do with it?”

“With what?”

"It. The angel you chose. What are you going to do with it?”

“I dunno. He is going to take care of my brother and me”

“Oh, so you’re not going to take it out of awhile play with it and then bring my angel back.”

“No Dad needs help raising Sammy and me when he has to leave us to the motels so Uncle Bobby suggested an angel.” Gordon frowned. He thought this man would take his angel away for a little while and then bring him back like all the other men that took his angel. Not this time and they were planning on traveling around, too. Well maybe the boy will at least use the angel correctly.

“So you’re not going to... play with it the way to you’re supposed to.”  
“How are you supposed to?” Gordon’s frown deepened. He stalked out of the cell. Dean watched him leave and looked back at the mass of black feathers and pale skin. Dean mused that the angel must be cold. But that wasn’t quite it and that caused Dean to frown, scrunching up his forehead like his father did when Sammy’s big brown eyes begin to tear up. The six year old moved closer to the angel and sat criss-cross applesauce.  
“Hi! I’m Dean. I’m six! What’s your name?” The angel moved one of his wings out of the way slowly as Dean spoke. The child’s was smiling and it was unlike any smile the angel could remember. His masters leered or glared or smiled suggestively at him in ways that caused shudders to rack his frame. Dean was meet with those big blue eyes staring at him again.

“How old are you?” The angel almost laughed. He was as old as the planet and he opened his mouth to explain when the master’s son returned with one of his tools in hand. Gordon swung the whip as he reentered the cell.

“This how you are supposed to.”  He cracked the whip on the angel’s wing as Dean jumped to his feet. The angel called out as pain surged through his right wing. It wasn’t enough though. If Gordon was going to lose his toy now, he is at least going to put his name on it.

  

“But its age? How-“  
“Yeah well its last owner was a collector of the supernatural so a rarity such as this one and with his taste for the younger angels. He modified it a little.”  
“Meaning?”

“The man was a magician, our kind of magician. He found a way to reserves the age of its vessel. When the old man, Cuthbert Sinclair, passed the spell stayed.”  
“You can’t fix it?”  
“It was a powerful spell that bound the angel’s grace. The most I’ve been able to do it  get the thing to age normally. It should grow up the same as any child.”  
“How old did Sinclair make it?”  
“It ain’t no more than six.”

“What did Sinclair use it for?”

“Collectors item, servant, personal uses.”

“Sex?”

“The man did buy it from a brothel.Look this angel is a good slave for you. Its been used in so many ways and when its old enough it’ll go for a high price. You’ll get your money back in a few years if don’t double. Take a look at the photos in its file.”

  
  
Dean was frozen against the wall as Gordon tries to make small talk with him. All the six year old can see it the shinning silver of the pocket knife, the running red of the angel’s blood and the pale patch of skin. 

 

“Damn. I see what you mean. And it can take care of children?” John tossed the photos that were basically angel porn back onto the folder. The angel was definitely attractive (granted the vessel was older). The identifying straight man could barely keep his eyes off that ass only covered by little silk blue panties.

“It took care of Sinclair and the man’s collection. It’s a quick learner, John and it’s the best option I have for you and your boys.”

“How much?” Gordon grinned. He loved hearing those words. It was like the green paper was in his hands already. 

“$550 and I’ll throw in some wings binders and some other essentials.”

“I guess Dean made a good choice then. I’ll take it.”

 

The men walked back down the narrow hallway to the angel’s cell, which revealed to them the sight of Gordon craving up the angel’s arm.

“GORDON! What have I told you about marking up the products and one that I just sold too?” At that Dean smiled and Gordon was pulled away from the angel with a thud of the knife.  The angel trembled and Dean thought he would curl up again but he simply kneeled at John’s feet.

“I’ll find it would day, Winchester. It’ll be mine again.” With that and a final glare, not at the eldest Winchester but the six year old, the dark skinned boy left them and his apologizing father.

“I am so sorry. I don’t know what I’m going to do with that boy.”

“Just throw in some clothes and a bandage for the poor thing and we’re even.”  John reassured, glancing down at the half clothed trembling bleeding angel. Dean was glad when the white cloth covered the jagged G and the half formed W disappeared from sight. With a dark winged angel in the back seat of the Impala wrapped in a trench coat and over sized suit, the Winchesters headed back to Bobby and Sammy as rock and Dean’s little voice trying to get the angel out of his wings filled the car. But the angel knew the harsh lesson to only listen to his master, the one who paid for him, until he was told otherwise.


End file.
